


Never Going To Know Who's Dreaming

by Elfbert



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 01:17:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfbert/pseuds/Elfbert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John, Lestrade, a bed in a cage, and no little interruptions or eavesdroppers...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Going To Know Who's Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> The night in the cage-bed.
> 
> As mentioned in these entries: 
> 
> http://interestingmurders.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/if-you-should-go-skating-on-thin-ice-of.html
> 
> http://boringlifeofjohnwatson.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/tree-buying.html

“Wow.” John stepped into the hotel room, looking around. He turned to Lestrade, grinning. “It’s bigger than our flat!”

Lestrade dropped his bag and helmet, then pushed the door shut with one hand and slid the other around John’s waist. He pressed a kiss to John’s ear. “Want to ask Mrs H if we can move in?”

John laughed, then pointed up to the gold coloured bars surrounding the suspended bed, where it hung from the ceiling. “Not quite enough privacy for my liking, not for all of us - and Mrs Hudson!”

Lestrade laughed. “I have a feeling Mrs Hudson would have no objections.”

“I would have plenty, though.” John turned and rested his arms on Lestrade’s shoulders, reaching for a kiss.

Lestrade grinned, tightening his grip on John’s waist and kissing him long and slow.

“Mmm, nice as this is,” John escaped Lestrade’s embrace. “Want to get just a little more comfortable first.” He shrugged off his jacket, put their helmets neatly to one side and kicked off his boots. He reached into his pocket and walked over to the large stereo. “Website said there was an iPod dock, so I made a bit of a playlist,” He grinned.

“Oh yes? Barry White? Marvin Gaye?”

“Idiot. Just a few things! Shut up and listen. Or don’t listen.” John pressed a few buttons, then walked back, pulling Lestrade toward him and kissed him again, dragging him down onto one of the huge sofas.

“This...” Lestrade failed to get through the rest of the sentence, until John had finished kissing him very thoroughly. “...needs to continue up there.” He pointed to the golden cage above them.

“Oh, yes?” John smiled, reaching up and pushing Lestrade’s hair into spikes, then dragging his fingers down the rough stubble of his cheek.

“Mmm,” Lestrade moved quickly to catch one of John’s fingers between his lips and suck on it.

John managed to stand up, and reached down to drag Lestrade up after him.

“You,” Lestrade prodded John’s stomach. “Are overdressed.”

John reached down and pulled his jumper up over his head, smiling as he began walking toward the stairs, knowing Lestrade would follow. Lestrade picked up their bag, and admired John’s bum.

John had only climbed a few steps before he was grabbed, one hand firmly squeezing his bum cheek, the other tugging on his t-shirt.

“Thought you wanted to go up here,” John turned, for once having the height advantage, and pushed Lestrade against the wall, leaning down slightly to kiss him.

 

“Mmm,” Lestrade tilted his head back and managed to work the back of John’s shirt free from his jeans and hold him tight, warm skin soft and smooth beneath his fingers. “C’mon, there’s a whole bed up there desperate to be tested out.”

“Don’t want a quicky against the wall?” John teased, pressing his hips against Lestrade’s a little harder.

“Time and a place, Doc, and right now, that bed is calling out to me.”

Lestrade grabbed the end of John’s belt, dragging him upwards, taking the lead.

Once upstairs they both made short work of stripping off and stretching out on the sinfully soft duvet, discarding a few of the huge pile of pillows, rearranging others.

“God, this is good,” John spread his arms out. “Could sleep in this and not even know you were in here too!”

“Hope that’s not the reason you think it’s good.” Lestrade immediately rolled over and crowded John, running his hand from John’s hip to shoulder, then back down the length of his torso to rest on John’s thigh.

“No, no, just mean...it’s huge.”

“Was just thinking the same thing,” Lestrade pointedly gave John’s half-hard cock a gentle squeeze.

John rolled his eyes.

“Roll the rest of you over, too, not just your eyeballs,” Lestrade grinned. “I brought that lavender oil.”

“Sometimes, Detective Inspector, I very much admire the amount of planning you put in before you mount an operation,” John rolled onto his front, hugging a pillow under his head, and giving his hips a wiggle to adjust himself against the soft, cloud-like duvet.

Lestrade poured a bit of the oil into his palm, holding it for a few seconds to warm it before rubbing his hands together and pressing into the muscles of John’s back. John groaned and Lestrade straddled his thighs, leaning forward and rubbing his hands in long sweeping strokes up and down John’s back.

“This is so much more relaxing, knowing there won’t be a knock on the door because someone’s thirsty, or had a nightmare, or your phone going because someone’s been murdered,” John mumbled into the pillow.

“‘S why it’s nice to get away,” Lestrade dug his thumbs into John’s glutes. “You deserve time off too, y’know?”

John grunted, and Lestrade wasn’t entirely sure if it was from the massage or in response to the question.

He continued to work up and down John’s back, feeling the muscles soften beneath his fingers, working out the odd knot. Taking care to press lightly around the pink scar tissue on John’s shoulder, not wanting to cause him any pain.

Once he was satisfied that John was as relaxed as he was going to get, Lestrade bent forward and pressed a soft kiss to the small of John’s back. Then trailed his lips a little lower, kissing the top of each of John’s buttocks as he moved to lie between John’s legs.

He kept his hands on John’s bum, squeezing the soft flesh, then dipped his head to lick from John’s balls to his hole.

“Wha...God...” John lifted his head from the pillow, trying to twist to see what Lestrade was doing. He quickly gave up though, as Lestrade’s soft tongue lapped across his skin.

Lestrade smiled, continuing to lick and kiss John’s soft skin, unable to stop making small noises of enjoyment.

He loved the feel of John’s smooth skin, soft and lightly furred and perfect.

 

John squirmed slightly, pushing his legs further apart, loving the contrast of soft, wet tongue and the gentle scratch of stubble. He dug his fingers into the duvet, moving to rest on his elbows, enjoying the slight friction of his hard cock against the soft cotton. Lestrade kept changing his actions - long, slow licks, flicking the end of his tongue fast over John’s sensitive entrance, and sometimes just stopping, letting John’s wet skin feel the warmth of his breath, followed by the cool fresh air as he pulled oxygen back into his lungs.

Lestrade’s movements were slow, languid, taking his time to gauge John’s reactions. The twitch of his hips as Lestrade pressed a kiss directly on his hole, tongue flicking out to push against the muscle. He pushed his face harder against John, freeing up one hand to dig his fingers into the tub of coconut oil he’d left open by the bed, next to the lavender oil.

He used his thumb to pull John’s cheeks apart again, still licking, long and slow. He immediately followed his tongue with the slide of one finger, rubbing gently up and down, watching as the solid oil melted with John’s body heat. Once it was wet and slick he gently pushed his fingertip into John, earning a groan, and another wriggle and John pushed his legs wider again.

Flicking his tongue around his finger he continued to tease, barely moving his slick digit. He kept it up until John pushed back, taking in a little more of his finger. He slid it out, and John made a noise of protest, lifting his hips slightly.

Lestrade licked again, then stiffened his tongue, letting the tip slip inside, feeling the coconut oil covering his chin and lips.

“Oh God,” John groaned.

Lestrade slid his right thumb through some of the oil still coating John’s skin, and as he pulled his tongue out he slid his thumb in, pushing gently, sliding back and then pushing in again, feeling John relax around the intrusion as Lestrade went back to licking and kissing.

“Might...might just come on this nice duvet if you’re not careful,” John said, pushing back again, his thigh muscles quivering slightly as he pushed up onto his knees.

Lestrade slowly pulled his thumb back out of John’s heat, and pressed a last, open mouthed kiss against John’s hole.

“Couldn’t have that,” he answered, wiping his face on the back of his hand, then leaning back down and gently nipping at John’s bum cheek.

“Ow!” John took the opportunity to roll over, stretching his legs out. He reached down to adjust himself, but Lestrade was faster, bending down and taking John in his mouth, sucking hard for a second, then flicking his tongue over the tip where it just peeked out from his foreskin.

“Ah, no, bastard!” John grabbed Lestrade’s hair, trying to fend him off. “Don’t make me come - not yet!”

Lestrade slowed his movements, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Want you...you know, in me.”

Lestrade’s second eyebrow joined his first.

“Really?”

John gave a half-shrug against the pillow. “Yeah, I just...”

“No need to explain,” Lestrade grinned. He crawled up the bed, leaning over John and sharing a long, slow kiss.

“Smell of coconuts,” John said.

“Never be able to eat one of Mrs Hudson’s coconut macaroons without blushing now,” Lestrade grinned, rolling onto his back, his hand straying to his own cock, giving it a squeeze.

John grinned, sitting up, then bending down to lick Lestrade’s cock, making it jump.

Lestrade propped himself up on a few pillows and watched as John sucked down his penis, eyes closed, one hand gently playing with his balls. He reached down, pushing a few stray strands of John’s hair away from his eyes, almost to distract himself from the sensations of his boyfriend licking and sucking up and down his shaft.

“Turn around a bit,” Lestrade gestured. “And pass the oil.”

John obliged, and Lestrade dug his fingers back into the white coconut oil, then slid them between John’s bum cheeks, tracing around his opening, tapping the pads of his fingers against the sensitive flesh before slipping his middle finger in gently, sliding in and out, a little more each time. Occasionally pausing the rhythm to rotate his finger slightly, pressing on the sensitive rings of muscle, feeling John twitch occasionally. He licked his lips, watching his finger disappearing into John again.

“Want to throw your leg over?” he asked. John turned to look at him, then smiled, carefully arranging himself so he was straddling Lestrade’s chest.

“Back a bit,” Lestrade said, tugging gently on John’s thighs.

“Is that...” John’s words were lost to a sigh as Lestrade’s tongue began licking the skin now stretched around his finger. After a few moments John felt the gentle pressure of a second finger, just rubbing around his hole to start with, then sliding in next to the first, all the time Lestrade’s tongue worked with the fingers, and John almost lost track of what he was doing, resting his forehead on Lestrade’s hip.

Finally he couldn’t stand it anymore. The tip of his cock was already sitting in a puddle of pre-come on Lestrade’s chest.

“I’m ready, come on,” he twisted, trying to look at Lestrade as he felt the fingers slide out of him. He wasn’t expecting them to be immediately replaced by a tongue for a few blissful seconds that almost had him crying out.

Lestrade finally rested back on the pillows, giving John’s arse a light slap. Then, as John rearranged himself, he scooped up more of the oil on his fingers and spread it liberally over his cock. He held himself steady as John straddled him, then adjusted the angle slightly.

John had his eyes closed, and Lestrade rested his free hand on John’s hip, feeling the tension in his lover’s muscles as he slowly sank down, pausing as Lestrade began to slide inside him.

Lestrade bit his lip, trying to keep still, to let John take his time, and stroked the soft skin of John’s hip under his thumb.

“You okay? Want more lube?” Lestrade offered.

“No, ‘s fine,” John settled a little more, and Lestrade moved his hand from holding himself to wrap loosely around John’s cock, which was already softening a little.

“Just say,” Lestrade stroked John gently, trying to relax and distract him.

John nodded, then let out a little gasp as he sank down another inch. He paused, leaning forward slightly, resting his hands on Lestrade’s chest, breathing deeply and looking into Lestrade’s eyes.

“Okay?” Lestrade asked, fingers keeping a steady rhythm of stroking up and down John’s shaft, occasionally squeezing over the head a little. He could feel John’s cock hardening under his touch, and wasn’t surprised when John took more of him in, and then set up a gentle rhythm, in time with Lestrade’s hand, moving up and down, a little more each time.

“Don’t do this often enough,” John finally said, reaching out and gently tugging on Lestrade’s nipple piercings.

Lestrade smiled. “You never seem to complain.” He pushed up slightly, bracing his shoulders and heels on the bed. John responded by digging his nails into Lestrade’s pecs, then beginning to move, watching Lestrade’s expression change from a smile to a look of pure bliss.

They moved slowly, finding a rhythm, but in no rush. As John leant forward to kiss Lestrade he pulled almost all the way off Lestrade’s dick, but Lestrade pushed back, raising his knees up to get more leverage, and kept the slow push and pull going, squeezing John’s buttocks.

“Feel amazing,” Lestrade said, closing his eyes for a moment and losing himself in the sensations.

John leant over for another kiss, nipping at Lestrade’s lips, his thumbs still flicking over the barbells on Lestrade’s chest, loving the feel of Lestrade slipping almost all the way out of him, before pushing back in in a long, slow movement. The next time he rocked back against Lestrade, taking him in faster, smiling as a shudder of pleasure jolted through him.

John dictated the pace - Lestrade’s hands strong on his hips, his dark eyes trying to read John’s every move and expression.

Lestrade paused for a second, stilling his hips and watching as John’s thighs tensed and relaxed, then John stopped too.

“What’s up?” He asked.

“This’ll be over far too soon if we carry on like this,” Lestrade gave a small embarrassed smile. “You’re just...” he ran his hands down John’s body, feeling the muscles under the soft skin, ending with his hand wrapped around John’s cock, stroking it slowly, using the pad of his thumb on the sensitive underside of the head.

John responded by rocking backwards and forwards slightly, keeping up the movement, but with less stimulation for Lestrade.

“Mmm, am I?”

“You are,” Lestrade laughed. “You definitely are. And how you ended up in my bed, I shall never understand.”

John gave his chest a light slap. “Think you ended up in mine, to be accurate.”

Lestrade opened his mouth to reply, but John lifted himself up and then slid back down, fast, and Lestrade could only whimper and curl his toes and try to delay the inevitable, instead of come up with an argument.

As John closed his eyes and positively bounced up and down, mouth slightly open, Lestrade couldn’t take it any more. He surged up, holding John tightly, and rolled them over.

John yelped in surprise, then smiled, as Lestrade settled above him, bending down to kiss him, hard, before driving into him, the extra power and depth exactly what John wanted.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed, as Lestrade’s lips fastened on his neck, then shifted and nipped his ear.

“Plan to,” Lestrade panted. He moved, getting his knees under him, pulling John tight to him and driving in.

John reached out, grabbing at Lestrade’s wrist until their fingers were tangled, the power of Lestrade’s thrusts meaning both of them were panting, muscles taught. 

Lestrade grabbed the top of John’s good shoulder, slowing down, relishing the long push in, trying to draw out the pleasure.

John reached between them and wrapped his fingers around his cock, trying to set up a rhythm in time with Lestrade’s.

He could feel the embers of pleasure every time Lestrade thrust, growing brighter by the second. He rolled his hips back further, gasping with the sensation of Lestrade filling him, and as pleasure seemed to trickle through his veins from the ends of his fingers and toes, all concentrating in his balls, he let out a moan.

“Fucking....love you,” Lestrade panted, as his own orgasm raced up on him.

John felt the waves of pleasure engulf him, and he let it wash over him, as Lestrade came deep inside him, long, desperate thrusts, working on pure animal instinct.

He reached up, stroking his fingers down the side of Lestrade’s face, tracing the deep wrinkles in Lestrade’s cheeks as he smiled.

Lestrade turned to lick a streak of semen from John’s hand, sucking on the end of his finger as it traced his lip. Then he shifted, pulling out of John’s hot body, ignoring the mess for a second to stretch out next to John and reach for a kiss, before grabbing one of the towels from their bag. He gave himself a cursory wipe-over before handing it to John, and then cuddled up close.

“We need to shower,” John said.

“Mmmm,” Lestrade agreed.

John just grinned, holding Lestrade close, and breathed in the warm smell of sex and fresh bedlinen and Lestrade.

 

***

Lestrade shifted, cold where he wasn’t pressed against John’s warm body.

“C’mon, you said shower, ages ago,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss on John’s shoulder.

“Your fault,” John smiled, without opening his eyes. “Too shagged to move.”

“We should get room service then,” Lestrade said, reaching up and stroking John’s hair into some vague sort of order. “That way we don’t have to be presentable for the restaurant.”

“Sometimes, you have exceptionally good ideas,” John grinned, opening his eyes slightly, and enjoying the sight of Lestrade’s boyish smile.

 

The shower was huge, and they took far longer than necessary, trying out all the luxury bathing products and finally wrapping themselves in huge fluffy towels and dressing gowns.

Lestrade sat on the sofa, feet on the coffee table, and read the menu.

“Have you seen this? It sounds amazing! I could order the whole lot,” he called out.

John walked down the stairs, still drying his hair, wrapped in towel.

“Bet it’s not better than your cooking.”

Lestrade snorted. “Think it is. Listen - Venison in a coffee crumb. That sounds...”

“Sounds like heaven for you,” John agreed.

“And we don’t have to do the washing up,” Lestrade grabbed John’s towel and managed to almost entirely wrestle it off him in the process of pulling John onto the sofa.

“Oi! Git. This leather’s cold,” John squirmed, trying to wrestle ownership of his towel back to put something between his skin and the leather sofa.

“Oh, hush, and pick something off this menu.” Lestrade thrust the menu under John’s nose and proceeded to thoroughly distract him from choosing anything.

 

Finally they’d both decided on what to eat, and Lestrade had called down to order the food.

After a short disagreement regarding who would answer the door to claim their food, which ended up with John wearing Lestrade’s robe, they were sitting on the sofa, looking at the spread of food in front of them.

“They brought us an ice-bucket...” John frowned, confused. “And two glasses. And...nothing to put in them.”

“I told ‘em you were just too hot for me to handle. Serious risk of spontaneous combustion,” Lestrade deadpanned.

John snorted and shook his head, then his eyes widened as Lestrade produced a bottle of champagne from under a cushion and nestled it into the ice.

“Is that...did you smuggle that in?”

“I did happen to have it about my person, yes,” Lestrade grinned. “Hardly smuggling - there’s no rules against bringing your own booze, you know.”

“Once again, I’m reminded that genius comes in many forms,” John smiled.

 

Lestrade twisted around, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, the towel half-draped over his lap. John watched, amused, as Lestrade cut a piece of venison, examining it, tasting the coating with the tip of his tongue, and finally popping it in his mouth, noticing John’s gaze.

“Wha’?” he asked, smiling and chewing

“Doing a thorough investigation, Inspector? Have you now catalogued all ingredients, ready to reproduce the dish for our enjoyment?”

“Shu’up,” Lestrade grinned.

“You look like Sherlock, when he’s not sure he’s going to like something. Testing it out.”

“If I could make something like this...I might ‘ave to give up the job. Try it.”

Lestrade fed some to John, who raised his eyebrows and nodded. “That is...yeah, that’s good.”

John ate a little more, then pointed a fork at Lestrade. “May have to get the chef’s phone number, if you can’t recreate this.”

“Git,” Lestrade countered, too busy with his food to carry out any sort of revenge.


End file.
